


the winds of change and chance

by badgerpride89



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Relationships, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection, Other Mighty Nein Members, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Team as Family, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23829607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerpride89/pseuds/badgerpride89
Summary: No life can escape being blown about... Caduceus Clay and Fjord care for one another. It's the shape that changes, sometimes.A one-shot collection. First chapter is a table of contents with more specific tags.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot collection is brought to you by the Widojest Hiatus prompts. They're good prompts and can be found here: https://funnygirlthatbelle.tumblr.com/tagged/widojest-hiatus-prompts
> 
> Basically, said prompts inspired me so I used them as a starting point for my own fjorclay prompts and stories. Thank you for letting me play in the sandbox, widojest fans.

2\. in the kitchen - POV Fjord, post-Traveler Con, pre-relationship, Fjord & Beau, implied Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast. The Mighty Nein returns to the Xhorhouse after a grueling near miss. Fjord deals by making dinner.

3\. commune - POV Caduceus Clay, near future, post-Traveler Con, pre-relationship, pining, but only kinda, Caduceus & Jester, implied Jester ship(s). Caduceus muses on his connection to Fjord and what it means.

4\. family - POV Fjord, C2E98, not canon, but canon adjacent, pre-assassination, pre-relationship, found family feels, what am i feeling, two boys sharing a cup of tea. After his talk with Caleb, Fjord seeks out Caduceus in the crow's nest. A conversation about duty and family and what we owe each other.

5\. cure wounds - POV Fjord, fuzzy near future timeline, canon adjacent, pre-relationship, Fjord's issues with faith and transactional relationships. Pacts and oaths are two entirely different beasts. But when it comes to rescuing a friend, what does it matter? 

6\. nightmare - POV Fjord, fuzzy future timeline, queer platonic relationship. Caduceus is having nightmarish visions. Fjord helps.

7\. on the sea - POV Caduceus, C2E99, canon-adjacent, post assassination, pre-relationship, Caduceus & Yasha, minor Yasha/Zuala references. Caduceus and Yasha decompress over tea. He's fine. Really.

_**To be posted:** _

  * hair
  * gift-giving
  * battle couple
  * diamonds
  * battle couple
  * wild card




	2. in the kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a grueling near miss, the Mighty Nein heads back to the Xhorhouse. Fjord deals by cooking.

"You know Caduceus will kill you if he catches you in here, right."

Fjord starts, banging his elbow on the stack of copper cookery as Beau enters the kitchen. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, tight like they were back in her father's house. 

Fjord can't really blame her. It's the first time they've been in the house since learning about Essek, Traveler Con, and the subsequent ambush. They're all taking it rather hard. Well, most of them. He himself has checked and rechecked the house three times already. 

Fjord rubs his elbow and sets the pot down. "He looked ready to pass out when we arrived. I think I'm safe," he says by way of explanation.

Beau loosens her hands and comes to stand beside him, leaning on the island. "Yeah, that's fair," she says as she watches him. She's gotten real good at that lately. Not Jester and certainly not Caduceus good but far above where she started, far beyond Fjord's own capabilities. "You think he's okay?"

Fjord pours the rice into the pot to mask his feelings. "If he isn't, then he really needs that nap."

“Fjord.”

“What do you want me to say?” he very nearly snaps as he rummages through their pantry for the beans. The bag’s lighter than it was when they left but he can’t even be mad about it. Rice, he’s found, is commonplace in Xhorhas while the beans he grew up on are something of a delicacy. “I checked an hour ago, he was out like a light. I wasn’t going to wake him.”

Fjord pointedly does not say he found Caduceus asleep in Fjord’s room instead of the room beneath the tree. He’s still mulling it over in his head. And it’s not like Caduceus is a quiet sleeper; if Beau’s been up in her and Jester’s room at all, she knows where Caduceus is. And that’s probably why she’s asking, Fjord realizes belatedly.

Beau smirks as Fjord’s ears go yellow green. “Don’t ask me, I don’t know,” he cuts her off before she can start. 

She snickers anyway. “Uh huh, yeah, sure, fine,” she says then narrows her eyes, “Yasha?”

“Up in the garden, working on the wildflowers. Caleb?”

“Holed up in the study. Jester’s with him.”

“Alarming the windows?”

“And the doors,” Beau corrects with a wince. 

Fuck Essek. Fuck the Traveler. Fuck the last three weeks, really.

Except the peace treaty. The way things have gone the last few days, the qualifier feels necessary.

“She's okay?”

“I mean, her big day was crashed by a fucking betrayer god and the Traveler was more concerned about getting them out than helping any of us, yeah, I wonder how she’s doing,” Beau snarks.

Fjord feeds her a look but she’s not wrong. It’s probably why Jester’s with Caleb; she needs someone to look after right now. He hangs the pot in the fire and gives it a quick stir. He continues the count, “Veth’s up in her and Yeza’s room. Sounded like she was getting shitfaced.”

“Can’t blame her.”

“Nope.”

“Why aren’t we getting shitfaced again?”

“Because somebody has to be functional around here right now and we’re the only ones who can be?” he says as he sets the spices next to the vegetables he previously gathered. 

“I hate being responsible.”

Fjord snorts. “Well, you’ve gotten quite good at it.”

“Ugh, not the time, man. Seriously, what are you actually doing in Caduceus’ kitchen?”

“What does it look like? I’m cooking.”

“We have a maid,” she points out, “We’ve got like, ten places around here we could get food from. Have you ever actually cooked anything?”

“I did have a life before I met you,” he says, barely containing a chuckle. He looks her over again, thinks about how she’s here and not with someone else, and asks, “Want to help?”

“Fuck, yeah,” she exhales the words in a rush.

Fjord nods then points at the flour stores. “Could you make the bread then? Flat’s fine. Just work the dough out.”

She grabs one of the larger sacks and makes herself comfortable a few feet away. He starts chopping the vegetables and spices. It’s not what he would call neat work but it’s functional and at the moment, that’s all that matters. The thunk of the knife on wood finds a rhythm with the thwack of the dough and the gurgling of the rice. Beau grunts and swears under her breath at the flour and water sticking to her hands. It’s quiet and filling in a way that Fjord enjoys, rather than feels the need to interrupt.

A few minutes with the mortar and pestle later, Fjord inhales deeply. It almost smells like a Menagerie Coast market. Beau leans over, sniffs, and hacks. She splutters and sniffles as her eyes run. “What the actual fuck is that?”

Fjord raises an eyebrow and chuckles at her reaction. “Hummus. You like it?” he teases.

She hacks once more for emphasis and vigorously shakes her head. “Are you trying to finish the job, man? Is this how you’ve been planning to murder us? Shit, fuck.”

“It does clear the sinuses,” he agrees and pours the first batch into a bowl, licking the last bit off his fingers. “Can’t handle it?”

“Dude, that’s inedible, I don’t know how the fuck you can eat it.”

“I don’t know what your problem is. It’s good for you. Puts hair on your chest.”

“Why the fuck would I want hair on my chest?” she snarks.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who’s into carpets,” he says then chokes when his brain catches up with his mouth. Beau breaks, laughs loud and long at him.

Fjord breaks too. He just can’t not, after all of this. “Be nice or I won’t make some for you Empire wimps,” he ribs her.

“Us Empire wimps? Your years on that ship clearly killed whatever taste buds you might have had.”

“Or you imperials don’t know the meaning of the word flavor.”

“Oh just try saying that with Caduceus in earshot, I dare you,” Beau says as she flicks some flour at him.

“Touche,” Fjord replies and starts a second batch.

“How much of this flat bread do we need?”

“Three or four pieces a person, as big as your hand? Maybe more, just in case.”

Beau nods and pounds the rolling pin against the dough in a particularly vicious hit. Fjord winces a little in sympathy. By the time he finishes the next batch, flavored only with cinnamon, onion, and a hint of star anise, Beau has enough pieces of bread to feed a small army. Fjord removes the rice and quickly chops the roots while Beau fiddles with the baking stone. He then pulls out plates and silverware. Everyone can just grab what they want and head into the dining room, they’ve done it plenty of times. 

“I’ll get the others,” he tells her right as she’s placing a piece on the stone.

She starts, burning her fingertips and cussing him out. Score one for petty payback.

“Try not to burn the bread,” he calls, laughing as he leaves.

“I’m not that incompetent,” she hollers, “I’ll just burn yours.”

Fjord snorts and heads first to the study. He knocks on the wall beside the door, no need to scare the crap out of Caleb by activating his door alarm, and tells them dinner is ready. Jester confirms for both of them. He darts up to the garden, where Yasha, covered now in soil and weeds instead of blood and gore, says she’ll be down as soon as she washes up.

Fjord heads back to the second floor to his own door, and stops mid-knock. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like an intruder in his own room. Maybe because he still doesn’t know why Caduceus chose Fjord’s room, of all the bedrooms in this house, to crash. Maybe because it’s Caduceus, who doesn’t ask for much and who sleeps lighter than any of them. Maybe because Fjord doesn’t want to disturb what little peace Caduceus has found in there. 

Carefully, he hopes quietly, he opens the door ajar, just enough to slip in. On the far wall, opposite to Jester’s room, Caduceus still sleeps. His pink hair spills out around him, a bright contrast even in the dim light to Fjord’s plain navy sheets. His staff lays on the floor beside the bed within easy reach. He hadn’t even removed his armor or pulled the covers out. His breathing is loud and even, reassuring in its steady noise. 

Fjord just watches him for a moment, lets the rightness of the moment settle around him. He can’t bring himself to worry at that thought. Caduceus takes such good care of them, of Fjord, that anything Fjord can return is only right and proper. Even if it is just a dark, quiet room and dinner. 

Caduceus’ breath hitches. Fjord winces and walks across the room, mindful to step on warped floorboards as he does so. No need to scare him into thinking Fjord is an ambush rather than himself. He makes it to the bed and sits on the edge, back flush with Caduceus’ own. Caduceus shifts slightly and blinks awake. The way his lips move could be a wince or smile or both. Fjord can’t quite tell. Caduceus stretches a little, shield arm above his head, and grunts at the movement. 

“You feeling any better?” Fjord whispers.

Caduceus rubs at his side and mutters, “Oh, I’m fine. Much better.” He says the last bit hastily when Fjord tenses at the first response.

Fjord relaxes slightly and says, “Good, I’m glad.”

A beat passes between them before Fjord clears his throat. “Um, dinner is ready, if you’re up to coming down. I can bring some up if you want.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Caduceus says quietly.

Fjord nudges him lightly. “Beau helped.”

“Even so,” Caduceus says as a real, though small, smile graces his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So, up here or down there? Wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to eat up here, I can smell the burnt bread from here,” Fjord finishes jokingly.

“There’s no burnt bread,” Caduceus says as he shifts and hoists himself into a sitting position. He leans a little on Fjord’s shoulder but is otherwise steady. 

“Yet. You know how vindictive Beau can get and I may have pissed her off,” Fjord comments. 

Caduceus snorts. Good. “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” he says as he slowly fiddles with his shield straps. 

Without thinking, Fjord reaches over and, with practiced ease, finds the beetle plate’s seams at the shoulders. He undoes it then shifts to the one on Caduceus’ bad side. Fjord’s fingers delicately work the straps on that side. Caduceus very pointedly doesn’t react, beyond stiffening, to his touch, even through the quilted green robe and shirt he wears under the armor. Fjord carefully gathers the armor and places it beside his bed, out of the way. 

Caduceus plants his feet on the floor and pulls off the robe. Even in the dim lighting and close quarters, Fjord can see the remnants of blood and a rather large tear in the silk shirt beneath. Caduceus catches him staring, of course. Probably catches the whirlpool of dark thoughts and near misses suddenly threatening to pull him under, too. They came so damn close, closer than any time save when rescuing Yasha, to losing everything. And Fjord tried, he really did, and it almost wasn't enough. Fjord breathes deeply as Caduceus nudges his shoulder.

"You did well out there," Caduceus reassures him. 

Fjord clears his throat. "You as well. You were amazing, as always."

Caduceus looks at him again. Even in the dark, he lays Fjord bare.

"You did good, Fjord," Caduceus says again. "You protected us long enough. You did enough."

Sure doesn't feel that way but Caduceus' certainty buoys him through the riptide. 

"Ask, next time," Fjord says abruptly. "If you need some healing or whatever. I know I can't do much yet, but don't just squirrel yourself away to wait out the pain, all right?"

Caduceus blinks, taken aback. He hums a bit then gingerly lifts his arm and says, "If you don't mind."

Carefully, Fjord rests a hand on Caduceus' side. He thinks of what the clerics have taught him, about finding that place where he and Melora meet. He concentrates and for a second, he feels a bright, breezy smile over him. A warm current bubbles up from within him and crashes through his fingertips. His hand glows as muscle and bone heal beneath it. The current seeks out other, smaller hurts and soothes them into nothing. 

Fjord’s hand lingers a moment longer.

“That was nice,” Caduceus says without moving, eyes trained on Fjord. “Thank you.”

Fjord meets his gaze. He still doesn’t know what this-

“- No, you’re not going to drown yourself up here. You’re going to eat like the rest of us,” Yasha orders as Veth groans and screeches at her beyond the door. A loud thwack and metallic banging echo through the floor.

The moment’s delicate intimacy breaks. Fjord reluctantly pulls his hand away. Caduceus slowly moves his arm, testing his side. Fjord stands, ducks his head, and rubs his neck.

“A few minutes, you said?”

Caduceus nods and stands. “Let me clean up a bit.”

“Of course,” Fjord says as he steps towards the door. He opens it and glances back where Caduceus is pulling his spare clothes from his pack. Once again, the rightness of the sight strikes him.

He stammers quickly, “You’re welcome here any time. I mean that,” before retreating downstairs. Something like pride burns through him.

Caduceus joins them a few minutes later. He puts a warm hand on Fjord’s shoulder, which Fjord pats. Above the din of Veth and Beau’s near food fight and Jester egging them on, Caduceus quietly asks, “May I stay?”

Fjord blinks, long and slow. The enormity of the question threatens to overwhelm him. But this is Caduceus. And he’s missed having him as a roommate. Caleb catches Fjord’s eye, raises a brow, but says nothing. Fjord meets his gaze coolly. Caleb’s lips twitch like he’s about to say something before Veth and Jester drag him into their chaos. Yasha tears into her food, oblivious to the goings-on.

Fuck it. Who cares? Fjord nods. Caduceus pats his shoulder and heads to the kitchen for his plate. 


	3. commune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus muses on the connection between Fjord and him.

A lot of things baffle Caduceus. Especially lately, between these people, these nations he has no ties to, and his own tangled thoughts, trying to make sense of it all. He’s beginning to suspect that there is no sense, at least not in the way he’s used to. Only through his trust in her, the feeling that he’s doing good, necessary work, can he begin to make peace with that.

This thing, however, does make sense. He sits quietly, breathes in the incense, calmed by the familiar ritual in this unfamiliar time. As he does so, a bright, gnarled forest grows in his mind. Home. Only now a mountain, Kravaraad, rises from the center, and the great beasts from the Menagerie stalk through the trees. 

And there- yes. Sea gull cries fill the space. He stands on a gentle shore, waves lapping his ankles, the forest in front of him. He feels more than sees the mother’s smile above them. 

Fjord’s voice whispers in his ear, the words lilting in time with the waves. Caduceus asks their questions and receives their replies. Molaesmyr, as they feared. He acknowledges the fear and dread that creep into his belly and vows he won’t let them dictate his course this time. The sun beams down on him, proud of his decision. He smiles in return as the trance ends.

Caduceus inhales deeply and blinks back to the present moment. Fjord’s hand is on his shoulder, grounding him. He pats it lightly as the others begin to debate their course. Caduceus contributes when he can; Fjord, however, is unusually quiet. Thoughtful, too. His hand remains on Caduceus’ shoulder, a warm and solid weight.

The others break off, head back into the house. Caduceus gathers his implements, keeping an eye on Fjord, who is absently running his lips over his tusks. All these months have taught him to wait Fjord out. Patience is something Fjord is only beginning to cultivate.

“It happened again,” Fjord finally says as Caduceus unfolds himself and stands. “I could feel her. There was...a forest?”

Caduceus’ lips quirk upwards. Interesting, that Fjord could see it this time. “A mountain in the middle?”

Fjord narrows his eyes and nods.

“That’s me,” Caduceus explains, attention focused on Fjord alone. 

Fjord steps back, surprise written in every line. Caduceus gives him a moment to digest, then says, “I stood in the ocean. Felt the waves. Heard the gulls. It was a nice addition.”

Fjord leans back, mouth slightly agape, exposing his tusks as he processes Caduceus’ statement. For his part, Caduceus just watches and waits for the moment Fjord leans in, head slightly ducked.

"What does it mean?" Fjord asks quietly, like he's almost embarrassed to ask.

Caduceus' ears flick once, then twice as he considers his answer. Truthfully he has a few ideas but he believes most will scare Fjord off, turning their relationship awkward for days. So he holds them back and says, "Well, what do you want it to mean?"

Fjord makes a choked noise, spluttering. 

Caduceus watches him steadily, still and waiting. Fjord works through his first response and manages to meet his gaze. Caduceus really likes that. Time was that Fjord would squirm every time Caduceus so much as glanced at him. He's seen that twitch enough times from enough people now to know what it means. It's lying. And the fear that Caduceus could, and would, expose him. But Fjord hasn't done so in so long, not since he threw Uk'otoa's blade into the Cinderrest lava. Now he meets Caduceus' gaze like they are equals, like they are partners. Fondness and pride swell in his chest each time it happens and this time is no different. Look at what we were able to grow, he wants to say.

"Well, I- I mean, I hope it means that our paths are entwined for a while longer," Fjord finally says.

Caduceus smiles gently. "I'd like that."

Fjord returns the smile with a small one of his own. "Have you ever experienced that with your family? Is it just something that happens?"

There are two answers to that question. Caduceus chooses the easier one. "I have never experienced that with anyone else."

He doesn't say that despite his synchronicity with his twin or his closeness with his aunt, the two family members he ostensibly could, Fjord is the only one he has ever shared a Commune with. Doesn't say that only through his association with the Mighty Nein, with _Fjord_ , is he powerful enough, faithful enough to initiate his own Communes. One day, perhaps. When Fjord can understand.

Fjord ahh's quietly and nods once. He looks thoughtfully into the middle distance then clears his throat, swallowing whatever he wanted to say. The sounds of the others clanging and clattering below reaches their ears. The moment ends. 

“I should go get ready,” Fjord says and pats Caduceus’ arm. “Thank you. For everything.”

Caduceus gives him a moment to retreat before he follows him down the stairs. He spies Jester waiting in the dark between the floors. Obscured as her face is in darkness, her body language is relatively easy to read. She leans on the railing, her right hand tapping a melodic beat on the polished wood. He identifies it as the song her mother sang at the recent party. Her eyes lock onto him as she comes into full view. The tapping ends. Ah. So this is how it will be, then. He stops a step above her and acknowledges her with a nod, waiting.

“Why haven’t you just told him how you feel yet?”

“I suspect it’s the same reason you’ve kept quiet,” he replies, leaning a bit on his staff.

Jester flinches slightly but rallies quickly. “Fjord’s different, Caduceus.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her. She thinks for a second, straightens and puts a finger to her chin. She’s whip smart. It doesn’t take her long to make the connections Caduceus has. The need to be worthy, the belief that they are no good for people like him and Jester. The slow trudge forward, moving in fits and starts. Measuring themselves against the others and always finding themselves lacking, irrespective of their inherent value and countless contributions. 

“I know how I feel. I can wait for him to make a decision,” he says quietly. His feelings are the easy part. What he wants, that is the snag. It’s a selfish reason to remain silent, time to discover the exact shape of it. He’s never felt this before. Sometimes he's relieved at Fjord’s own uncertainty, for all that it is a different shape to his own.

Jester feeds him a look. “And if he doesn’t?”

They’re not just talking about Fjord.

“Well, we have this,” Caduceus gestures at the yelling and clamoring below them. Fjord and Veth snipe at each other, Caleb and Yasha argue over cold weather gear, and Beau huffs at them all. “And that’s a lot.” 

Really, having Fjord in his life, whatever the shape, is more important than any single want he could feel. What they are today is not what they were yesterday and not what they will be tomorrow. Growth and change are the natural states of things. Just because he doesn’t know the fruit of this harvest doesn’t make growing it any less meaningful.

Jester giggles at him. “Yeah, we do.”


	4. family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family, Fjord is learning, is a verb, not a noun.

Fjord is new to the family idea. Never even dreamed of having one, really. Family was something only the good, worthy kids had. And he never would be. He had thought, once, that Vandren, Sabien, and the others could be a family. But that was a long time ago. So when Beau takes them to the Lionetts, lays her scars bare for them all to see, Fjord feels a dark stab of guilt. For all the baggage Vandren saddled him with, much of which Fjord had taken willingly, he’s realizing, Vandren at least _tried_. 

Family, Fjord is learning, is a verb, not a noun.

So when they run across the Clays and send them on their way just as quickly, Fjord’s head spins a little. They’re not like Thoreau Lionett, taking credit for all Caduceus has done or laying their woes at his feet. In fact, they try to take some of the load from him. They don’t dismiss him or his priorities so why in the world is Caduceus so desperately shoving them away?

They don’t have a lot of time in the days before leaving Nicodranas to talk. Truthfully, between Essek’s revelations, the new splinters among the group, and the tension of the coming peace talks, none of them have really been in the head space to talk. But that’s the beauty of the sea. Hours and hours to fill in the day.

So after Caleb heads below, Fjord heads above, to the crow’s nest where Caduceus has made himself comfortable. All their best cushions are strewn about. One of the lighter sheets is wrapped around Caduceus’ shoulders. His hair is braided back, stray bits flying in the wind. He gives Fjord one of his more serene smiles, his ears flicking up, as Fjord settles. Fjord quietly relaxes, secure that he’s welcome. The scent of saffron, ginger, and fungus reaches his nostrils from the remnants of the pot and cups Caduceus has brought up. 

“Hi,” Caduceus says.

“Hello,” Fjord replies and gestures at the pot.

“Oh, it’s gone cold.”

It’s not a no.

“And?” Fjord says and pours himself a cup. It has indeed gone cold but the flavor dances on his tongue, sparking bits of heat and nostalgia on his tongue. For all that he holds no love for Port Damali, he does miss the zest in his food; most of their group can’t stand anything more flavorful than pepper or cinnamon so that’s what they eat most days.

Caduceus watches him with half-lidded eyes but doesn’t comment. Though Fjord is bursting with questions, the air between them remains light and easy. There’s no rush when it comes to Caduceus, never has been. Purpose, yes, but everything in its own time.

“How are you doing?” Fjord asks after a few minutes, fiddling with the tea cup.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

It’s not an outright deflection nor an outright refusal so Fjord carefully presses on. “Well, Beau just reunited with her...family,” he scrunches his nose at calling that man Beau’s family, “and it bothered her greatly. Honestly, she was acting like she did before, like when you first came along, did you notice?”

Of course he noticed, if Fjord noticed. Caduceus raises an eyebrow and nods. “She seems a little better now.”

“She does,” Fjord agrees and clears his throat, “I’ve never really had a family, like the rest of you. I suppose I never realized just how much of an impact they can have, when they suddenly reappear in your life.”

“Give it some time,” Caduceus says. His tone is rather matter of fact, which only makes the statement itself more ominous.

Vandren. Sabien. Who will he be if, _when_ they come calling?

“Anyway, I just wanted to check in, ask how you were doing,” Fjord says as gently as he can.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to pry-”

“But you will,” Caduceus interrupts but it’s not hostile. Dare Fjord even think it, there’s amusement and fondness lacing Caduceus’ words.

“Guilty as charged. You know me.”

“I do.”

“Look. You hadn’t seen your family in ten years, you came _this_ close to losing them all, and yet you couldn’t wait to send them on their way. I just don’t understand, is all.”

Caduceus sighs and leans back against the railing. For a moment, Fjord thinks he won’t answer. He wouldn’t blame him, either. Caduceus has so clearly and consistently kept his past behind him, even when they run right into it. Faith he can talk about but family? Desires? His own loneliness and fears? He’s like Jester, pretending they’re nonexistent. Fjord still doesn’t understand how they can take on everyone’s shit and hold back their own. 

But Caduceus surprises him once more. “Well, it’s like you said with Beau. She reverted back to someone she didn’t like or want to be.”

Here, Caduceus pauses before he continues. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I want but I like who I’m growing into. And I’d like this new me to be more...rooted, stable, before I really spend more time with them again. I don’t know if you’d noticed but they’re…”

“A lot?” Fjord says, raising his eyebrows for emphasis.

Caduceus laughs. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. We have a very...set way of doing things. Even after all these years, I could feel myself falling back into those old habits. I’ve...changed in their absence, moved on-”

“-And they haven’t,” Fjord finishes. Caduceus nods. 

They sit a moment, watch the clouds begin to gather overhead. Fjord inches over until he and Caduceus are shoulder to shoulder. 

“If it helps,” he murmurs, “I don’t think those old patterns are all bad.”

“No?” Caduceus says, a smirk in his voice.

Fjord nudges his shoulder. “I kind of like this more openly mischievous side of you. It’s nice.” 

The bone flute in the night, the fan for Beau, the fucking hat. It’s a lighter, more carefree side of Caduceus Fjord hadn’t even realized he’d been missing out on. He likes seeing Caduceus in that mood, likes knowing that he's comfortable enough for some fuck off time. 

Caduceus laughs once more and leans into Fjord’s side. “Yeah, I missed that too. I’ll figure it out one day. I like the roles I play and the things I do now. I’m not ready to give them up just yet.”

Fjord stiffens beside Caduceus. “Who said you have to?”

Caduceus sighs, looks down into his lap. “I have to go back someday, Fjord.”

He didn’t say home, Fjord notes, and wonders how much it hurts for someone like him to discover the place he’d always belonged was no longer home. Fjord’s used to it, to not having one or building it with people, ideas, or things so big you’re always home. He aches for his friend.

“That doesn’t mean you have to lose anything.”

“Fjord-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I’ll be called back one day,” Caduceus says gently, placing a hand on Fjord’s knee. “It’s the way of things. The Grove needs a cleric to watch over it, to nurture and protect it.”

“You have three siblings.”

“I do.”

So, mother or aunt or both are clerics, Fjord files away into the back of his mind. None of his siblings.

“You’re not leaving us any time soon, right?” Fjord asks, a sudden urgency overtaking him and choking out any thoughts beyond that one dreadful notion.

Caduceus pats his knee again. “It won’t be for a while, I don’t think. We have a ways further to go along this path, with these people.”

It should be comforting. It isn’t. He’s gotten so used to thinking of the Nein, of Caduceus and himself specifically, as a unit, inseparable. One idea, one web of fuckups to belong to. One family. That small voice he’d shoved aside during Beau’s crisis cries out, demanding to be heard.

Caduceus straightens, leaving Fjord’s side cold. He shifts until he and Fjord are face to face. “We’re not done until we’ve saved each other,” Caduceus promises.

Fjord nods, exhales the air he didn’t know he was holding. He takes Caduceus’ hand, threads his fingers in between their impossibly long counterparts. “That sounds like the work of a lifetime,” he whispers.

Caduceus smiles softly. “Well, then, it’s lucky I have so much time, isn’t it?”

Fjord nods and squeezes Caduceus’ hand. Above them, the storm clouds gather.


	5. cure wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oaths and pacts are two entirely different beasts. But when rescuing a friend, what does the difference really matter?
> 
> AKA, how does casting divine spells with non-divine pact-granted slots actually work?

The thing about working in a group is that you get into a rhythm in battle. Everyone has their thing, their role to play to ensure the group survives. Beau and Yasha get right inside their enemies' guards and pin them down, protecting the rest of the group and smashing their foes left and right for good measure. Veth and Caleb stay back and rain hellfire and crossbow bolts down on the unsuspecting saps. Caduceus stays safe, square in the middle, to weaken their opponents, bolster their allies, and keep all their dumb asses alive. Fjord and Jester do a little of all the above, depending on the motherfuckers messing with them that day. The point is that by now, they all know instinctively where to fall in and how to overwhelm their enemies. 

The point is that, by now, their enemies have figured that out, too.

The point is that these enemies have decided that Caduceus is their biggest threat. Which, well, Fjord can't blame them. Beau, Yasha, and Jester can only be as reckless and fierce as they are because Caduceus carefully watches them. His bright green curses hobble any physical attack their enemies try on the front lines or ensure that the group’s attacks take their enemies down faster. His blessings find openings in the enemy guard. His prayers keep them all coming again and again until their enemies can do nothing but run away or die.

“Caduceus!” Jester shrieks. 

Fjord parries the latest attack in time to see Caduceus collapse, cornered by a corpse and two other enemies. Fjord’s blood pounds in his ears, blocking out all other sounds of the battle.

Time dilates.

_ “Teach me,” Fjord asks Caduceus after fish and chips with Caleb.  _

_ Caduceus looks at him, assesses him, searches for something; Fjord doesn’t know what but hopes he finds it. He leans on his staff and says, “What do you want to learn?” _

_ Fjord thinks back to the Happy Fun Ball, to how the blood and gore had coated Caduceus’ face, how slowly and stiffly he’d moved for hours, to the pittance of healing Fjord could muster in the face of such need.  _

_ Never again. _

_ “Healing,” Fjord declares, “Teach me to heal like you and Jester do.” _

_ His voice wavers and chokes a little. “Please.” _

_ Caduceus’ ears shift up slightly and his eyes soften. He stretches a hand. Fjord takes it wordlessly. _

_ Caduceus leads them back up to the ship’s deck, where the gentle waves against the ship are more prominent. Caduceus sits, back to the mast, and Fjord sits across from him. He takes Fjord’s hand again and turns it over, palm side up. His thumb runs across the lines and calluses, sends tiny sparks up Fjord’s arm. He doesn’t pull away. _

_ “Cure Wounds,” Caduceus breathes, “It’s about making your faith tangible. It’s finding where you and your goddess meet. Most divine spells start there.” _

_ “Tangible?” Fjord whispers. _

_ Caduceus nods. “Knowing that your faith is how the gods interact with our world, how they can affect it. It’s you, and your will, and your faith that shapes this interaction.” _

_ That...is a lot. More than Fjord can really wrap his mind around. But it makes sense on some weird level. Caduceus believes that every move he takes and every act he performs is a conversation with the Wildmother. Fjord has never seen himself as part of any grand cosmic conversation. Even now, with all that he and Caduceus have achieved, even with their group’s determination to take on representatives of a Betrayer god. _

_ Caduceus looks up from their hands. Fjord meets his gaze. “When you perform your other spells, what’s it like?” _

_ Fjord thinks a moment. “Warm,” he finally says, “But my own, to do with as I will. It’s like…” _

_ He struggles for words. “The...fuel, I suppose, is there but it burns quickly. Replenishes quickly, as well. But it’s mine. It’s like a well, maybe? Am I making any sense?” he ends with a chuckle. _

_ Caduceus smiles at him. “Perfect sense. You pull up a couple of buckets of water and go back to the well when you’ve used them. The water’s source is the well but you aren’t using the well directly.” _

_ Fjord nods. _

_ Caduceus continues, “Jester and I use the water directly. It’s more like redirecting a small part of a river. There’s more power there but it also acts how it will. Respect it and have faith that it will be enough and you’ll have an easier time directing it.” _

_ Fjord nods again. Caduceus places his hand on top of Fjord’s and slowly makes two gestures with his fingers so Fjord can follow them. Fjord copies him, practices the sequence again and again. _

_ “Good, good, you can try on that bruise Beau gave you,” Caduceus says as he pats Fjord’s hand, a fond smirk on his lips. “Touch it, find that river, make your request, and let it work.” _

_ Fjord feels suddenly clumsy under that gaze. He fiddles with the sequence once more, thinks of the Wildmother and silently asks for her aid. Knowing this, doing this will make him a more useful instrument of her will so it’s good for both of them, right? Is that how this works? _

_ “Fjord, it’s about faith. Faith in yourself just as much as Her.” _

_ Fjord starts, the spell’s words stumbling from his lips as he completes the somatic sequence. His hand glows a subtle green and he feels that river rush through him. The light fades, and with it, the ache in his shoulder and hip.  _

_ Caduceus smiles brightly at him. “See? You’re a natural.” _

Jester is too far away, Yasha is pinning the baddest of the bunch between Beau and herself. Caduceus’ enemies are about to finish the job.

There’s no time. 

Heart in his throat, Fjord reaches into his well and teleports himself between Caduceus and his attackers. He crouches over him, shield raised. He dismisses the Star Razor and reaches down towards Caduceus. He’s bleeding out from a ghastly slash wound to his neck. 

There’s no river Fjord will trust with Caduceus’ life. If he could verbalize the apology rushing through his mind, it would be something like  _ I’m sorry my faith in You isn’t strong enough yet, I’m sorry but he’s too important to risk on my lack of faith, I know how this is supposed to work and I’m sorry I’m not keeping my end of the bargain, but You charged me to protect all that is you and I will not let him fall, not now, not ever- _

He finishes the gesture and thrusts his fingers into the wound, a strangled cry ripped from his chest. He pulls from the well once again but instead of the bucket of water he expected, a geyser floods through him, shoots through his entire body, batters him against hidden rocks. He grits his teeth against the pain, holds firm as his fingers glow. The skin beneath them seals, the blood replenishes within Caduceus’ body. He feels the flood knit blood vessels and muscle back together, seal the cracks in his skull. 

He and Caduceus gasp as one. 

Time returns to normal as one mook slams his mace into Fjord’s shield and the other slices at him with a wickedly curved blade. The blade glows green as it connects with the shoulder seams of Fjord’s armor. He grunts at the pain and nods his thanks to Caduceus. Caduceus grabs that mook’s leg, blackening the veins up and down his body before he collapses in a heap. Caduceus gets up behind Fjord, which Fjord takes as his cue to stand as well, and shouts a quick prayer. Fjord resummons the Star Razor and finishes off the enemy beside them.

Not thirty seconds later, the fight is over and Fjord’s legs are so much jelly. The others gather, Beau slapping him on the shoulder and telling him what badass he was, Veth agreeing, while Jester looks Caduceus over. He takes the concern good-naturedly.

“Thank you, Fjord. You’re a natural.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Jester chimes in, “that was amazing, Fjord. You were so good.”

“Yeah, all in favor of making Fjord the designated emergency healer? Oh, look, no objections, passed then,” Beau says as Fjord shakes his head.

He steps away from the group, the adrenaline crash staggering in its intensity. A large hand gently rests on his shoulder, half holding him up, half grounding him in the enormity of what he’d done.

“Everything all right?” Caduceus asks lowly.

Fjord shakes his head. He’s not sure how he feels, honestly. “I healed you from the well,” he says, knowing Caduceus will understand.

Caduceus blinks then squeezes his shoulder. “It’s a good first step.”

Fjord raises his eyebrows at him.

“Faith in yourself, remember?”

Fjord’s not sure he counts the moment as faith in himself. He half expects the Wildmother to take his abilities in some kind of maelstrom for what he did. He holds the hand on his shoulder and breathes out, confesses, “I was the only one who could.”

“And you trusted yourself to do it. You had faith, Fjord. It’s a very good step.”

Fjord's still not sure he agrees. He has no idea where he stands with all of this. But. 

He chooses to trust Caduceus' certainty.


	6. nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus is having nightmarish visions. Fjord comforts him.

Fjord doesn’t sleep right away. He curls up in his bed, back flushed with Caduceus’, and waits. And waits. Caduceus’ loud snores echo in time with the storm outside the Xhorhaus. And just when Fjord thinks maybe tonight will be different, Caduceus’ breathing changes. It hitches, then speeds, and loses the snoring completely to hard gasps. Fjord turns over, places a hand on Caduceus’ shoulder. Caduceus whimpers in his sleep. 

Fjord hates that sound.

He squeezes Caduceus’ shoulder, shakes it gently. Caduceus inhales sharply. The faint tremors along his body cease. He reaches back for Fjord’s hand and pulls it towards his chest. Fjord winces a bit as he repositions himself so that his arm doesn’t feel like it’ll be pulled from the shoulder. He ends up with his head higher on the pillows, so that he could put his chin on Caduceus’ crown if he wished, and his feet just bumping the back of Caduceus’ knees. Caduceus curls his fingers around Fjord’s hand, trapping it between his large hand and thin chest. Even through Caduceus’ thick sleeping shirt, Fjord can feel his heaving ribs and hammering heart.

He knows how this will go, how it’s gone the last week and a half. Caduceus will calm, apologize for waking him, and clam up if Fjord asks any questions. They will sleep and _not talk_ about it. Fjord’s about had enough of it. But getting Caduceus to open up is so damn tricky. His success rate, while better than most of the group, isn’t great. But this is too important not to try.

So try again he will.

“Are you all right?”

Caduceus shakes his head. Fjord’s chest tightens. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Fjord shifts his hand on top of Caduceus’ and squeezes it. “I was already awake.”

Caduceus’ shoulders lower. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Fjord runs his thumb along Caduceus’ knuckles. “I was waiting for you,” he finally admits.

Caduceus gets his other arm under himself and starts to sit up, bumping his head against Fjord’s jaw. 

Fjord grunts as Caduceus says, “I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll just-”

“If you say you’re leaving over this, I’ll pin you to the bed until you stop that nonsense,” Fjord threatens.

He sits up and plants his hand on the bed around Caduceus’ other side for good measure, bracketing him on the bed. Caduceus peers at him through the dark. He exhales slowly then nods. He doesn’t settle back into the sheets. He simply sits and waits. Fjord does as well, uncertain about how to proceed. The thunder rumbles around them, the rain splatters and pings against the walls and window. 

“Please let me help,” Fjord finally says.

Caduceus’ hand fumbles in the dark, finally landing on Fjord’s jaw and ear, cradling them. Fjord strokes his knuckles once more. Caduceus gathers himself and whispers, barely above the storm, “I see a lot of things. I can’t tell which are visions and which are just nightmares.”

Fjord’s chest aches. “Tell me. I know a thing or two about visions and nightmares,” he tries to joke, save that it’s really not funny. Usually the Wildmother is blunt and straightforward when she deigns to speak with them. There’s no confusion as to what is happening, no punishment or dark warnings about a faith unfulfilled. For Caduceus to be this frightened, this mixed up…

“I saw a poison spreading out into the world,” Caduceus whispers, eyes trained on the ceiling, “my home and family dying, the seeds turning to dust. It spread everywhere. Uthodurn, the Kiln, Zadash, the whole continent. There were...chains breaking. Snapping. I could hear them. They were so loud. Until they stopped.” Caduceus shudders. Fjord squeezes his hand again. “I can’t...there was a lot of screaming, after that. And I watched you all vanish one by one into some...thing we were fighting. Then I realized I was screaming, too.”

There’s more to it. Fjord knows it. But this is far more than he previously knew so he’ll take it. “That sucks,” he finally says. 

Caduceus gives a strangled laugh and his fingers shake against Fjord's jaw. “That wasn’t the worst part.”

“Oh?”

“She asked me who I would sacrifice to keep the screams at bay. Didn’t matter, in the end, the poison got in and killed everything anyway. I was alone again.”

Fjord tightens his grip around Caduceus’ fingers, steadying them. “Oh, Caduceus,” he breathes. 

“I couldn’t do it, Fjord,” Caduceus confesses.

Fjord’s stomach drops. He extends his arms and catches Caduceus as he burrows his head into Fjord’s shoulder. He strokes Caduceus’ hair awkwardly, his fingers snagging on tangles, and rests his cheek against Caduceus’.

“We’ll figure this out,” he whispers, determination lining each syllable. “We will.”

Caduceus’ arms tighten around him. “I know,” he finally says, “I know.”

“And for the record,” Fjord promises, “we’ll do everything we can to make sure you aren’t alone like that again. You know that, right?”

Caduceus nods into his shoulder then sighs, a warm puff of air that sends shivers down Fjord’s spine. “That’s not the problem.”

Fjord makes a leap. “Listen to me,” he says gently, “If it comes to that, a battle which kills us all, it won’t be your fault, understand? It will be because we’re all dumbasses who can’t stand by and let the world die. I admit, I’d prefer my sacrifice to not be in vain,” he says, a hoarse chuckle clawing out of his throat, “but I would do it, to protect you all if it came down to it.”

“Fjord-”

“I did swear to protect all that She is,” he reminds Caduceus, “and I’m not looking for a glorious death or what have you. I’d much rather grow old and bent traveling with you and everyone else. I’ll do all l can to make sure that we all do, myself included, all right?”

Caduceus exhales unhappily. They sit in silence for a long time, curled into one another. Physical affection and comfort have never come easily to Fjord but this? This, he finds, is as easy as breathing. 

“I’ll ask Jester to send a message to my aunt tomorrow,” Caduceus mumbles into his shoulder as the rain finally dies down. 

"That sounds like a good start," Fjord agrees then offers, "Would you like me to make-"

"Don't leave."

Fjord nods. "I won't."


	7. on the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus and Yasha talk after a rough night on the sea.

Caduceus leans on the rail of the ship, breathing in the salty smell of the warm wind. In the aftermath of last night, he thinks he can still smell the blood and the rotting, fish like corpses. Or maybe that is just the aftertaste of his interrogation. Humanoid those dead might have been but they sure didn't grow like it. 

"Would you like some?" comes Yasha's voice along with her heavy footfalls. Fjord and Orly are at the wheel, discussing the passing storm and the ship's heading like last night didn't happen. It would steady Caduceus but Beau hovers next to Fjord like some guard dog and Marius twitches every time he looks at Orly or Fjord. Caduceus wonders if there is some old sea legend or curse that talks of bad luck in bringing the recently risen on a ship like this.

"Caduceus?" Yasha says as she nudges him slightly, two cups in her hand.

Oh. Right.

Gently, he takes the offered cup, eyes the steaming brown liquid inside. It's not one of his and the thought of Yasha picking her own warms his chest.

"Thank you," he says, remembering his manners. He wrinkles his nose. The tea is bittersweet on his tongue, full of herbs and spices he doesn't recognize. Well, there are a few; most are from Xhorhas. It's not bad, certainly, but it is demanding in a way he doesn't usually choose for his own brews. But it suits her. He wonders if she would grow a tea like this someday, then discards the idea. There would be some bitterness, of course, but he thinks Yasha's tea would be lighter than this, perhaps pair well with a bright spring day. 

"You seem rather distracted today," she comments as she chugs hers.

"Do I? I think we're all distracted today," he replies, sipping politely.

She leans against the railing, cup in front of her, and looks him over. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

He is. He's fine.

Yasha stands with him at the aft of the ship, their hair beating wildly against their heads in the wind. Caduceus really should have tied his up this morning but it hadn't seemed important at the time. Not nearly as important as helping Fjord buckle on his armor and shield. They stand in quiet company for several minutes, long enough for Jester to pull Fjord into her statue making on the main deck and Caleb to join them, nose buried in his new scrolls.

“The Stormlord came to me last night,” Yasha says softly.

Caduceus blinks, hums, and turns to look at her. She keeps her gaze on the dark clouds behind them. “And what did he say?”

“Not much. Just that I’d- I’d proven myself worthy, is all,” she says into her cup.

In spite of the strain of the last twelve hours, Caduceus smiles. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

She shakes her head slightly. He wonders if she even realizes she’s doing it. “I-I suppose. It’s just...” she breathes deeply and cranes her neck to look him in the eye. Even knowing her as he does, it’s still a little unsettling. “...he told me that I was worthy of his guidance. Which is fine but then he said I was worthy of my own acceptance.”

Ah. Caduceus nods. There’s not a lot he can say in the face of that. That’s something she has to work out for herself. At the same time... “You are. I know it doesn’t feel like it but you are.”

She nods curtly and takes another swig. “I know how you want me to respond-”

“I have no expectations regarding your feelings,” Caduceus interrupts gently.

Yasha’s lips twist, somewhere between a small smile and a smirk. “You really don’t, do you?”

Caduceus feels like he’s stepped into some trap he can’t see. “No, I really don’t.”

They fall silent once more, Yasha glancing in his direction every now and again. Caduceus listens to the passing waves, tries to get a sense of the peace Fjord had mentioned finding in them. He supposes the waves might be the wind in the sea and in that thought, he finds a little comfort. It doesn’t fit quite right, Caduceus has always firmly been a creature of the woods and swamp, but Her voice whispers through each crash and splash. She had been right there with them last night, through the ritual, through the purge. There’s not a word he could say or deed he could do to equal the gratitude and relief which have knitted themselves into his bones. He thinks, absently, that when he’s planted, bluebells, sweetpea, sticklewort, and arum lilies will blossom as a testament to last night.

Yasha’s hand covers his gently. Caduceus blinks, grounded back to the present by her touch. She gives him a soft, sad look.

“I know what it’s like to watch someone you love fall,” she says quietly and pats his hand.

Caduceus starts. His ears flair. He carefully extracts his hand. “I love all of you,” he gently corrects her.

She gives him a look. “I know. And I know you would fight just as hard for any of us. You already have,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, then leans towards him. “But I also know if you saved any of us like that, you wouldn’t be brooding about it the day after.”

Caduceus shakes his head. “I love you all,” he reiterates because that is _important,_ more important than anything. “I would do almost anything for you guys.” He owes them the person he is and the love they’ve given him. Of course he would.

“But it’s different with Fjord,” Yasha presses.

“It’s different with all of you,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You’re all different people, of course I love you all differently.”

“Even so,” Yasha starts then stops. Then says, softly, “It’s just...you looked how I felt when I lost her, is all.”

Ah. Well then. No point in denying it.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Thank you for checking on me,” he says with a nod.

“Of course.” She straightens and, he thinks, is about to leave when she asks, “So when are you going to tell him?”

He blinks, his mouth agape. “I mean...he already knows?”

Yasha smirks. “That you love him? Yes. What form it takes? I don’t believe so.”

The wind whips through his hair as Caduceus sighs. “I’d rather keep quiet on that for right now.”

Yasha raises an eyebrow at him but nods respectfully. She could ask further but she doesn’t. That alone deserves an answer. 

He glances back at Fjord who is now engrossed in painting statues with Jester. His tongue sticks out over his right tusk as he carefully brushes a green coat over the figurine. He’s so focused he apparently doesn’t hear whatever Jester said that has Caleb and Veth in stitches. Beau, perched on the railing nearby, isn't laughing either. Caduceus sets his mug on the deck and leans his back against the railing. 

“I want to be a choice,” he finally says, “not something he feels obligated to return. He does that a lot, puts himself aside for other people or because he thinks he has to.”

Fjord had twisted himself into knots over the pirate hat, something so simple and teasing from Caduceus and Jester. Had introduced himself to Caduceus' family with the surname he hates, just because Veth had called him _Stone_ and it seemed proper. The whole mess with Avantika. Fjord is one of the most giving people Caduceus knows. At the same time, he is also one of the most performative and anxious. He worries too much at what he should be doing, at what people expect of him, that he often places his own desires at the bottom of the list. 

“I understand,” Yasha says quietly.

And he believes her. Because that's what they all are, every day to each other: a choice.

"Deucey, Yasha, you want to join us?" Fjord calls up to them.

Yasha pointedly smiles at Caduceus and he smiles back as they join the others.


End file.
